The King of Hearts & The Queen of Spades
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: Zoey Brooks becomes two things: a dull constant thudding in the back of his head when she's not there and the bane of his Quite Awesome Existence when she is. AU Season Three. ZoeyLogan.


**Lust** (Latin: luxuria) [luhst]; intense sexual desire or appetite.

* * *

This _isn't_ love.

This is wrong and _not_ supposed to be happening because she hates him so much.

The weirdest thing is that she's giving Logan Reese The Answer to that stupid repetitive three worded question that sounds so smug and full of arrogance.

Quinn and Lola aren't here and her heart is racing against her ribcage. Zoey styles her blonde hair perfectly and applies her lip-gloss with a steady, meticulous hand in the morning and her hair is disheveled and in disarray while her vanilla-coconut flavoured lip-gloss is smudged and sticky. Or at least it feels this way.

It's not happily after ever and it's storybook romance.

This is just a whole hot mess and a collision of angry lips, tongues playing a game of Cat and Mouse. Logan touches her and she releases a moan into his mouth (that isn't supposed to happen either). Nothing's right and Zoey's wants out of the Twilight Zone she's allowed herself to somehow step into. Maybe she likes the feel of his hands tangled in her blonde hair as he smirks against her blonde hair because Logan knows what to do (notanidiot) and she's feeling a little angry, with a hint of pissed off and temporarily sane –

He's touching her in all the right (sowrong) places –

Zoey pulls away and her face is all flustered, words spilling out of her not-so-pretty mouth.

"Shut up, Brooks," Logan silences her by placing another kiss on the corner of her lip, breath hot on the back of her earlobe. "You're thinking too much."

Yeah, Logan Reese is hot. There – she says it.

"This is insane," Zoey replies, flatly and combs a hand through her hair. She feels the feed to pace just to confirm she has feeling of her legs. Yup, they're there. "Oh my God."

"Would you chill out?"

"No. And you think too little."

"Ouch."

He smirks, eyes unreadable. Logan is always easy to read and now, she can't.

"I'm not admitting I'm attracted to you."

Because this isn't love. This isn't real. This isn't legitimate.

"You should. To save yourself time," Logan answers, voice low. "But I'm not going to admit you're hot to me right now," he mutters in between kisses. "You're always hot to me, Zoey."

She hates him but doesn't object when Logan catches her lips once again.

(Because Zoey will count to ten, open her eyes and this…thing can be erased into oblivion.)

* * *

**Pride** (Latin: superbia) [prahyd]; the state or feeling of being proud.

* * *

Everyone mistakes his awesomeness for him being "cocky".

Logan smirks to himself sometimes because there's no one that can possibly step up to him and match his coolness, and hey, if they can't take that then they'd better move out of the way.

His ego is his best friend because Chase and Michael have _each other_. The girls vie for his attention, glance at his biceps when he flexes and works out shirtless because Logan's just _that_ hot (everybodylovesme). With every girl the ego swells and grows, making his entire body fill with the obvious reassurance that Logan's hot shit. With perfectly fluffed hair and a wandering eye, Logan searches for his next conquest…and a phone number.

Duh, they're girls. Which means they want him.

(He's Superman.)

Instead, it's just Zoey Brooks, pretty little mouth turned into a frown. She sighs and shakes her head.

"What're you doing?"

"What? I'm just trying out the samples," he questions while winking at Beth Marshall, the hottest brunette in their grade. Seriously, Logan would tap that.

Beth catches his eye and sends a flirty smile his way, twinkling her long manicured fingers – oh right, Brooks.

Zoey's hot and a side project but right now, she makes an annoyed sound from the back of her throat.

"As nauseating as you are," Zoey explains. "You and I are doing a media project together. You weren't in class today and I picked your name out of a hat. Ladies' choice, according to Mr. Bender."

Family emergency with _both parents_ this time.

Don't ask.

"And you picked me?" Logan says, and raises an eyebrow. "I knew you were hot for me."

Rolling those light brown eyes of hers, Zoey grams her wrist and glares at him. He's not listening to her while she proclaims she will not do all of the work all by herself. She tells him he will help and not just stand there and look pretty.

He smiles, smug because he's entitled to that.

"Thanks for acknowledging I was good-looking."

"So, have I told you you're a nice person yet?"

"No."

"Good – the world is right."

It's not fair that this blonde can screw with his emotions and moods like that. Her slender hand enclosed around his wrist is totally not burning. It's not natural hotness, and the fact that Zoey Brooks' grip feels like it's being branded into his tanned skin is not even _there_. It's non-existent.

Girls are completely stupid, he thinks begrudgingly.

(Hello Superman. Meet Blonde Kryptonite.)

* * *

**Wrath** (Latin: ira) [rath]; strong, stern, or fierce anger.

* * *

She's not an angry person.

That is the honest to God truth. Zoey Brooks is the patient, understanding type with a slow reaction time to things that are generally offensive.

But Zoey Brooks does get irritated with the ignorance and the stupidity that freely flow from his lips. It's the only time Zoey experiences something close to unadulterated rage when her blood almost heats up, fizzing and bubbling beneath her skin.

"I've been rooming with the guy since sixth grade and Logan's 'logic'," Chase pauses to use air quotes for extra emphasis. " – never ceases to amaze me."

Zoey breaks her brown-eyed gaze from where Logan saunters away out of his dorm room.

Michael isn't here and his "hooping shoes" disappear with him.

The biology textbook is balanced in her lap with a bright yellow highlighter in the crease. Chase's e can't reliable and there's nothing full of complications. Her friendship is just nearly three years of simplicity. But with Logan, she's not friends with him but they're not clearly defined as enemies either. It's too sticky, too wrapped up in disarray and disorder.

"Chase?"

"Yeah?"

"You think if I were to smother Logan in his sleep anyone would notice?"

"No," Chase replies, slightly twirling his orange highlighter in between with his fingers with ease. "As long as we hide the body, get aliases and drive to Mexico in a stolen car."

She smiles. "You'd make a horrible accomplice – no offense."

"Ouch."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not, but we're buds so it doesn't count," he grins at her and combs a hand through his dark bushy hair. It's dark and curly and all _Chase Matthews_. "Look, it's Logan and trust me the world would be a freaky place if he were wholeheartedly nice and did things _from the goodness of his heart_," he pauses. "Think about it."

Maybe.

"As much as I can't stand him, he's just…Logan."

Zoey casts a quick, split second glance at the doorway, sort of half expecting to see him saunter in and smirk like he always does. She's expecting Logan to just say and do something out of context and embody The Proverbial Asshole because in retrospect, it's normal. The normalcy is important and Zoey can justify the faint pink flush that taints her cheeks when Logan is around as an angry flush.

(He'll never make her blush and the Logan Reese induced anger is an aspect of her humanity.)

* * *

**Envy** (Latin: invidia) [en-vee]; a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another's advantages, success, possessions etc.

* * *

Chase loves her. He _adores_ her—like the whole damn school doesn't already know.

Logan, however, observes little unimportant things with Zoey that Chase can't and he almost feels bad: the stares across the table that are hold a little longer than usual (it's stupid shit), the way her words come out all clipped and edgy underneath a guise of niceness when they fight and banter (it's called being us, **sweetheart**), and the fact that all of the death glares that come from Zoey's innocent face (you're not that **innocent**, baby) are all reserved for him.

He's noticing the fire behind _those _brown eyes because once again, this broad just doesn't know when the hell to…quit and the shine in the dirty blonde hair that is just so her because yeah, Zoey Brooks is hot (kindabeautifulfuck). Logan's heart is starting to do that thumpy thing against his ribcage and maybe there's something there – and maybe, Logan will continue to be the Hottest Asshole On Campus because he's the best at _everything_.

Therefore, Logan is the best at suppression and repression and – ugh, Chase desperately needs to be punched in the face and Zoey needs to let go of whatever vice-like grip she has (thumpthump.)

Logan doesn't love Zoey like Chase does.

(He loves her slightly more and it's not fair.)

* * *

**Gluttony** (Latin: gula) [glut-n-ee]; the over-indulgence and over-consumption of anything to the point of waste.

* * *

She's a glutton for normalcy.

Zoey wants normalcy and order so bad, and maybe her compulsive need for everything to just exist the way they're supposed to is unreachable and out of touch.

Maybe Zoey's compulsive need for everything to be what they're supposed to be is a nicely masked case of neurosis and OCD. And Logan Reese doesn't equate to that feeling normalcy and everything right in the world _at all_.

_She's_ kissing _him_ this time because Logan doesn't resonate order and organization at all – just her being entangled, ensnared and in her twisted head, kinda enamored (ohgodweirdness.) His touch trails her waist, making the skin along the hem of her top burn and blister while becoming cold and numb like an ice storm in the middle of May (wrongwrongwrong).

Today, and only today, Zoey wants to be slightly less innocent and maybe even a lot less of Virginal –

She doesn't know anymore and it's all too thick – yes, even for her stubborn logic and rationale.

Lola and Quinn are going to be here any minute. They can't gawk at boys forever.

(And Zoey is an even bigger glutton for the adrenaline and the insanity. It's just…messed up.)

* * *

**Greed** (Latin: avaritia) [greed]; excessive or rapacious desire, especially for wealth or possessions.

* * *

News that Logan Reese and Beth Marshall are dating spread like wild fire and he's in the best mood of his life because:

A) Everyone is back to admiring him and worshipping him (and they just can't seem to stop caring.)

B) Beth is hot in that Holy Shit, I'd Hit That And Not Think Twice kind of way and convenience is a beautiful thing.

Yeah. Because they (don't) like each other and the sex is average (_enough_ to tide him over). His new girlfriend is a walking epitome of green bedroom eyes, legs that go for miles and no emotions to make things all complicated and messy. And besides, she's easy and Beth doesn't like him either.

So, Logan comes up with a hot girl on his arm and a mind that is clear with the intentions of tanning and working out because Zoey Brooks is just a girl.

(and she's clearly not his vice in the least.)

"Okay, I don't care about what you and that Beth Marshall girl," she shudders at the name. "have going on and trust me," Zoey sighs, sitting beside him while he's tanning. "I sleep well at night but I have to ask why?"

Zoey's invading His Space and holding his heart (she just doesn't know…) a little too tight around the corners while she cradles Chase's with an oblivious gentleness. He can't see it but as the sun beats down on his bare back, Logan knows she's all doe-eyes and _expectant stares_ and not know when the hell to just stop and leave shit alone as they are.

He masquerades complacency and chuckles. "Why do you care, Brooks?"

The sound of her backpack hitting grass is not what he wants to hear because that means she's staying and then Logan Time gets all Uncomfortable and Awkward and Irritating.

Logan opens his eyes and turns his head to see her pull of blades of green between her fingers.

"I don't know. We aren't friends," she says and then slightly softens. "But we're not enemies either and maybe somewhere deep down, I'm a little naïve for caring at all but," she smiles a little, wariness etched on her face. "We are somewhat friends."

"Friends by association – maybe," he corrects quickly because he and Zoey aren't…anything.

Zoey blinks because her face contorts into a frown.

She rolls her eyes and stands up, dusting herself off. "Well, at least I tried to care."

And it sort of needs to stop like right now.

"Please don't. Mind your own business."

"Fine. I swear, you're just too greedy for your own good," Zoey glares at him before he closes his eyes again and Logan hears the sound of footsteps hitting grass roughly as it gets farther away.

He smirks.

(At least he says _please_.)

**.**

"Look, Logan. I'm not invested in this thing we have, but you're obviously emotionally invested in whatever girl is on your mind. Shouldn't complain since the sex was amazing," Beth smiles to herself and stops imagining _it_ quickly enough.

Beth is a firecracker in bed and oh for the love of Beautiful People, this broad should stop Expressing Herself right now.

"I'm probably going to marry an old guy with a crapload of money and inherit that money as a widow," she runs her fingers through her tousled dark hair. Her green eyes sparkle and she smirks, kissing him. "We're both selfish and spoiled, but the difference is I don't care, _boyfriend_."

He doesn't care either. Really, he doesn't.

He's as just apathetic, selfish and greedy.

"You have your ego to stroke and I'm just in it for the sex," Beth says nonchalant. "My door is open if you still want to mess around."

At the moment, Beth Marshall stops being a good, convenient fuck buddy and he dumps her the next day.

(and Zoey Brooks becomes two things: A) a dull constant thudding in the back of his head when she's not there and B) the bane of his Quite Awesome Existence when she is. It's still fucked up.)

* * *

**Sloth** (Latin: acedia) [slawth]; spiritual or emotional apathy and being physically and emotionally inactive.

* * *

Zoey isn't lazy – at least not academically.

In fact, she studies diligently and works hard to maintain that three point eight five grade average. So no, she isn't lazy when it comes to school and Chemistry just hates her by circumstance (the feeling is more than mutual).

That's the moment the World is flipped on its Ear and trips over that table only to land on his lips (oh, the damsel in distress look is cheap and _tired_). Chase and Michael walk in, only to have Zoey nearly jump the hell out of her five foot five frame and stammer out excuses about mundane yoga and movies that she prays are existent.

But Logan is just difficult and not a nice person (because he's a _switch_ and hard to understand), and he makes her emotionally lazy – she's tired and being with Chase right now, laying on blades of grass and being intentionally is easier, simple and enjoyable. She laughs more, talks about things that are actually endearingly stupid and underneath a night sky, the blades press into her back and her head just stops working so hard.

"This is nice."

"Yeah," Chase replies, glancing to the side to face her. He sighs and glances upwards. "You, me and a whole bunch of grass. Best thing I could ask more. Actually second best."

She giggles and a star winks at her. "What would be the top thing to ask for?"

There's a long pause.

He shuffles. She fingers her key necklace.

"Just being with you, regardless," he says, honestly and looks her in the eye. "Zoey, you wouldn't lie to me, right?"

In those green eyes are truth and honesty in spades. ("You know I'm an honest guy.")

"No. You're my best friend."

"Okay."

"What's this about, Chase?"

He laughs. "I feel really stupid but I was talking with Michael, Lola and Quinn, and get this," he explains, sitting up on his elbows while she is forced to sit up as well because he's her best friend. "They say ever since Logan's being helping you with Chemistry, things have been…off."

What in the –

"Off?" Zoey finds her voice and it sounds frighteningly even. "How?"

He shrugs. "They just thought that there was something actually between you and Logan. I just wanted to come to you because he's gonna lie to me no matter what I ask him," and then he chuckles, shaking his head while the dark bush on his head follows the motion. "But that's stupid, right? I can't tell you who to date and such, but you and Logan dating? That's weird."

(She doesn't deserve anything, and her heart doesn't know what it wants. There's _too much_ effort.)

"Yeah," she nods, and chuckles along with him. "Exactly – he's not my type."

He seems to buy this and they lay back down to look at stars again in total silence.

**.**

However, Zoey desperately tries to breathe evenly because the blades of glass suddenly feel like thin, hypodermic needles prodding and her in every part of her body. The bile is slowly creeping up her throat and the sweet mocha javaccino gives her the bitterest of aftertastes.

(Zoey Brooks wins at Emotional Procrastination by default. The gold medal is all hers and too heavy.)

* * *

**A/N: Take with that as you will. I don't have an interest for this fandom anymore but I have stuff I**** need to finish in here because I hate leaving stuff undone. So, I'll hang around a little longer and actually complete things. **

**This oneshot is set in S3 – but AU. Everything before Zoey's Tutor happened and afterwards, it's fair game. Oh, and this snippets or whatever you want to call them are just snapshots that lead to a bigger picture but they don't happen in order so don't get confused. **

**I'm going to sleep and work on two pieces for Young & The Restless. An Adam oneshot because I loved the character and all his dark ways (Michael Muhney owns!) and a Billy/Victoria oneshot because they're just awesome. **

**So, yeah. Again, feel free to review if you want.**

**Goodnight. **

**-Erika **

**PS. Oh, and the title is a song lyric. If you PM me with the right answer, you'll be super cool in my book for sure. Hint: the song is pretty popular and that's the song you should listen to while you read.**


End file.
